#enemies to platonic soulmates | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

afewproblems · 1 year ago

Note

62 &/or 71 for platonic stobin perhaps?

62: It's okay to cry & 71: You are the single best thing to happen to me.

Thank you very much for this, I love these prompts and got real carried away with this! I hope you enjoy!

If you had asked Robin Buckley to describe her relationship with Steve Harrington back in her freshman year, she'd laugh in your face.

Why on earth would King-Steve be caught talking to her, let alone do it enough to constitute a relationship?

He was a popular jock, and Robin was a freshie with a trumpet.

It wasn't how things worked.

Steve operated on the outside of her periphery. She had an awareness of him, his actions in the popular crowd. Like any minor celebrity, the gossip mill ran rampant with tales of King-Steve.

"Harrington scored the winning shot at last night's game! Not many Juniors get opportunities like that!"

"King-Steve told Tommy to leave Harvey alone cuz he's just a freshie, saved him from a swirlie -swear to God man".

“Yeah well, I heard he broke Byer’s camera the other day, so--”

"Have you seen his hair, ugh he's so dreamy!"

To which Robin thought, 'I've seen him leave half a bagel of crumbs all over his English notes, how dreamy can he be?'

And to top it all off, Tammy Thompson wouldn't stop staring at him, twirling her long blond hair around her pink varnished nails while reading sonnets from Romeo and Juliet loudly at her cafeteria table, trying valiantly to catch his eye --peak romance right there.

But Robin wasn't quite ready to think about how much she wished Tammy would bat those long lashes at her, nah, hating Steve Harrington was easier.

Besides, he had no idea she existed, right?

Robin grabs a can of Coke from the fridge, reaching into her pocket for change before joining her mother at the till.

The corner store was all the way out on Main Street, but still closer to home than Mevalds or the grocer on Parsons so Mrs Buckley had stopped for a few things on their way back from Robin's band practice.

She slides the change onto the counter and pops the tab before throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll go wait by the car mum".

Mrs.Buckley nods distractedly, waving her hand with a smile and she hunts through her purse for her checkbook.

Robin makes her way down the aisle to the entrance, the little bell above the door jingles lightly. She steps over the threshold into cool November air and shrugs her jacket collar up against the chill.

She sighs as she looks back through the window, her mom seems to be taking her sweet time, chatting with the clerk now and going through her checkbook with a smile.

A muffled groan catches her attention from across the lot, she tilts her head towards the sound and startles when she spots Steve Harrington, the bane of her existence, leaning against a car with a can of soda pressed to his beaten bloody face.

He hasn't seen her, his eyes are trained at a point just ahead of him as he rolls the can over his split cheek.

What the hell?

Robin leans away, keeping herself behind her mom's station wagon and out of his sight line.

Who would have kicked the shit out of old King-Steve? And where were his two cronies Hagan and Perkins? She had so many questions and--

Steve sniffs once, pushing the heel of his free hand into his eye as he drops the hand holding the can.

Oh.

Robin suddenly feels as though she's intruding on something private. Watching this boy she's never talked to, who she saw last Monday walking with the rest of the basketball team into the cafeteria, Nancy Wheeler hanging off his arm with an affectionate roll of her eyes and the biggest grin plastered all over his dumb face.

But this Steve is hurt and alone and smaller than she's ever seen him before.

It's bizarre.

Suddenly he's moving, throwing the can to the gravel and stepping off the car before sliding his arm across his face in one motion, he clears his throat and throws open the driver's side door.

The engine of his beemer roars to life just as Robin's mother exits the store, she frowns as Steve peels out of the parking lot, brakes squealing.

"Honestly, why they give teenagers licenses, I'll never know," Mrs.Buckley mutters under her breath as she unlocks the car and hands Robin the paper bag, "do you know that boy?"

Robin watches as the tail lights of Steve's car disappear around the corner, the image of his hunched shoulders and black eye branded in her mind's eye.

Robin shrugs once as she opens the passenger door, "Not really".

***

It's not until two years later that Robin crosses paths with Steve again, slinging ice cream with the former King down at the new mall.

Her first job and it’s at some horrible sailor themed ice cream shop of all places and to top it all off, she’s stuck with Steve Harrington.

Sure, she'd seen him in passing at school, watching as he slowly fell away from the popular crowd. While it was somewhat satisfying to see Tammy pretend she had never really been interested in the former King of Hawkins High, she couldn't help but remember the way Steve looked that day, face bloody, holding a cold can of pop to the worst of the bruises.

Robin can't help but wonder just what had suddenly turned Harrington's life completely on its head that day. She'd heard it was Jonathan that had beaten him up, but given how weirdly close he, Nancy, and Steve got after that cold November day, she didn't really believe it.

Wasn't he rich too? He drove a BMW to work for chrissakes. So why was he here?

And then there’s the kids.

They follow him around like ducklings, begging for rides during his spare time and free samples of ice cream on the days he’s working.

It would be endearing with anyone else, but it’s Steve Harrington.

They've been working with one another for about two weeks before it happens again.

Robin idly sprays the glass display case with the spray bottle from the back. Whatever green liquid is in the unlabeled bottle smells absolutely foul but it's the only thing in the store powerful enough to get rid of all the finger and face prints on the glass from kids standing on their tiptoes to see the flavors.

They end up having to clean the customer side of the window far more often than their employee side and normally she and Steve will flip a coin for it.

Neither of them enjoy being out from behind the counter, the shorts and the socks are reason enough for this, but it also has the negative effect of piquing enough customer interest to interrupt their down time, like the movement and streak free glass shine draws their eyes.

But, nine times out of ten Steve would ‘lose’ and pick up the spray bottle without complaint.

Robin had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, but why the hell would Harrington do something like that?

She wrinkles her freckled nose and starts wiping the glass, clearing away the smudges and dirt before spraying again to get at the more stubborn fingerprints.

Steve is late today, which is weird.

Another surprise from Hawkins golden-boy, Robin would have expected Steve to waltz in twenty minutes late to every shift, with a scowl on his face and a refusal to pull his weight.

But it was the opposite.

Steve would get there early, he would review the cleaning list for the day, check the inventory to see what ice creams would need to be restocked and what the special was for the day.

The only thing Steve had ever asked her to do, was to write out the specials on the board.

When Robin had scoffed and asked why he couldn't do it himself, Steve had gotten very quiet, chewed his lip for a beat and said, "I don't want to mess it up, or have you have to redo it for me".

Steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, "sometimes the letters are weird when I read and then it makes it harder to write them out”.

He sighs but it comes out more like a scoff, “there’s a reason I’m still here Buckley”.

Oh…so the golden boy of Hawkins High would not be leaving for college in the fall then.

He looked at her, his big eyes traced over her face as though he were looking for any hint of a laugh.

And what else could she do in the moment but pick up the dry erase marker and shoulder him out of the way of the board with a, ‘you owe me dingus’.

She turned her face away at the small smile Steve gave her, ignoring the twinge in her chest at his tiny confession.

God Dammit, he was not endearing, he wasn’t!

Robin balls up the rag she used to wipe down the glass and looks up to the wall clock on the far side of the food court.

It’s nearly eleven in the morning and Steve is still not here, she’s tempted to use the phone in the back to call his house when she remembers she has no clue what his phone number is or if it would even be listed.

She’s sure he’s scheduled with her today; it’s Tuesday, they always work Tuesdays together.

Robin looks around the food court, scoping out the entrances and nearby tables. There’s no sign of him, no obnoxious hair, no big goofy grin, or big hazel eyes to be found.

She huffs and makes her way to the back room, pushing the swing door open hard enough that it makes a satisfying bang against the wall.

She freezes at the sudden yelp from the back corner.

Steve whirls away from her, his face tipped into his open locker, his shoulders are a tense hunched line. It's a horribly familiar pose and once again Robin can’t help but feel like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t.

“Steve?” she says softly, taking another step into the room, “whats--”

“I know I’m late,” he mumbles, the words are tight but there’s no waiver to them, “sorry”.

Robin wishes she were better at this sort of thing --her mom always seemed to know what to do and what to say when people were upset. That skill definitely skipped a generation in her case.

He turns to face her, slowly, one hand on his nose, the other holding his wrist against his chest.

There’s an ugly, rapidly purpling bruise running down his arm where it’s cradled. The shape is strange, almost as if someone had grabbed him - it runs around the entire circumference of his forearm and--

Oh.

Steve eyes her challengingly but there’s no real heat in it, his eyes slightly shiny in the awful humming fluorescent lights.

“Actually,” Robin swallows roughly after nearly a full minute, clearing her throat as she leans back on her heels, “Uh, Marcus said we only needed one person on today, it’s slow as shit so,” she shrugs and tilts her head to the employee entrance, “you could go home if you want”.

Steve stares at her, his eyes raking over her face the same way he did after the white board incident, before he sniffs once and shakes his head, muttering under his breath that he’d rather get hit by a bus and Robin stiffens at the implication.

“You’re a terrible liar Buckley,” he says eventually, closing his locker and running a slightly shaky hand through his hair before walking towards her and the storefront, “but thanks,” Steve says softly as he passes.

“Does that mean I can go home?” Robin calls after him, immediately wincing but pleased at the startled laugh she hears from the counter.

She follows him out front, slowly, suddenly feeling with absolute certainty that she really doesn’t know Steve Harrington at all.

***

Robin never thought she would be here.

Not once did she think she would have ever come out to someone while she was still in highschool, let alone the former King of Hawkins high who would in turn become her best friend, her platonic soul-mate if you would.

After the debacle that was their official last shift with Scoops Ahoy and the Russian Spy Alternate dimension bullshit where Steve risked his damn life to save her and the kids --who all knew about this monster filled Upside Down just by the by.

So many things suddenly made so much sense, Steve and his injuries over the years, his weird relationship with Nancy and Jonathan, even the sudden personality 180.

And through the truth serum, the torture, the fire, and running down another car driven by a maniac from California, Steve was there to hold her hand, and Robin is infinitely grateful for it.

They take a job together at Family Video, attached at the hip ever since the mall burned down in July; the video store is one of the few places still hiring that summer that pays a dollar above minimum wage.

It’s not exactly glamorous, it’s mostly restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes but it’s easy and the hours are good.

She and Steve are able to get their shifts together most of the time, they both know this is so Keith can avoid working with Steve directly -a bonus if there ever was one.

Things have been quiet ever since Billy’s death and the Mind Flayer’s obliteration from their world, but it’s been especially quiet since the Byer’s packed up and moved to California.

Most of that seems to be influenced by the cloud of sadness that has draped itself over the rest of the kids and Nancy -who has been coming by more and more lately, stopping in at Family Video and lingering in the evenings, chatting with Steve while Robin shelves the returns.

It wouldn’t even have made a blip on Robin’s radar if not for the way Steve would shut down for the rest of their close after Nancy left.

He refuses to speak more than one word answers, refuses to engage with Robin’s one sided bantering as she balances the till and shuts down the neon Open sign.

It’s nothing like after she saw the bruises at Scoops, nothing like the quiet acknowledgement that the Harrington house wasn’t all money and sunshine the way she thought it was.

And Robin doesn’t know what to do about it.

It’s been going on for weeks now, and she’ll be starting school again soon. She won't be able to take the same number of shifts as she could over the summer months, and Robin has no idea what will happen when she’s not there as a buffer anymore.

It’s the last week of August when she brings it up to him.

“Steve?” she says as she hands him another copy of The Terminator tape for him to rewind; it��s nearly nine at night and Nancy hasn’t been by at all today. Robin’s stomach has been in knots watching Steve watch the windows for her all night.

He tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at her as Robin breathes in deeply through her nose, her heart suddenly in her throat.

“Just,” she bites her lip, “what is going on with you and Nancy?”

Oh, perfect, real subtle.

All at once Steve’s face shutters.

“No, come on, don’t do that,” Robin wheedles, stepping in front of him, “Steve, just talk to me--”

“There’s nothing to talk about, just drop it Robin,” he bites out as he steps around her to grab the returns cart and wheel it over to the New Release shelf.

“No, nope,” she huffs, walking quickly to the other side of the cart and grab the handles, “this is against all the laws of best-friendom”.

“That's not a word,” he mumbles tiredly, reaching up to pinch his nose and close his eyes.

Ah shit.

“Dingus, Steve,” Robin says softly as she lets go of the handles and steps closer into his space, “talk to me?”

Steve hesitates, seeming to chew the words or the inside of his cheek - she can’t quite tell at this point, before he blinks once, twice, his eyes rapidly becoming shinier by the second.

Oh double shit.

He shakes his head and turns away from her sharply and Robin doesn’t know what to do with her hands as Steve takes a deep wobbly breath.

“It’s okay you know,” she finds herself saying softly as she takes a step closer, “to cry?”

Steve barks out a wet laugh and shakes his head again, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know what to do, like literally,” Robin whispers in a panicked voice, “can I, I mean, do you want a hug?”

He nods but doesn’t move as Robin steps even closer to wrap her arms loosely around his waist, he’s stiff in her embrace but slowly begins to relax the longer they stand there - as though he’s not used to something like this.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I am here if you want to talk, or if you even just want to vent - man I want to vent,” Robin says, pulling back slightly to look Steve in the eyes, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell is Nancy doing?”

Steve stills in her arms but she keeps going, “honestly, aren’t she and Jonathan still dating?”

“Like I get that he’s all the way in California but why is she coming in here, and don’t tell me it's about the movies --she never asks me to help find anything, just you, and half the time she doesn't even end up renting anything?”

Robin stops as Steve’s breath hitches once, “it's not fair to you,” she finishes lamely, her voice petering out as Steve nods and sighs, finally bringing his own arms around Robin’s shoulders to draw her closer and bury his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her tight enough to leave her nearly breathless.

“You’re the only person I can actually talk to that won’t think less of me about, about everything,” he whispers into her hair, Robin’s hands twitch as she fists his work vest between her fingers.

“I think, you are the single best thing to have happened to me in the last like, two years Robs,” the words are constricted, as though he has to drag them out, “and…I need to tell you something”.

Robin nods as he pulls away this time to look at her, his red rimmed eyes trace over her face, just like they had at Scoops all those months ago.

“I,” he swallows and drops his gaze to the floor, “I don’t…feel that way about Nancy anymore,” Steve says quietly.

“But you seem so upset whenever she leaves, you were looking for her today?” Robin says, confusion painting her words.

Steve sighs and tips his head back this time, looking at the ceiling as though the answer is hidden among the ceiling tiles and water stains.

“It's complicated, I…” his mouth opens and closes for a beat, “I am sad for her that Jonathan is gone - he was a better fit for Nancy, way better than me,” he mutters and looks at Robin once more.

“And I know what she's doing, coming in here all the time, she’s lonely, but that's not why I’m upset Birdy”.

Robin frowns, “then what--”

“There’s this guy,” Steve blurts out, speaking over her in a rush.

Robin feels herself stop breathing, what?

His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues, “I-I’ve never told anyone this before”.

“Okay, okay,” Robin whispers, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he moves even closer and drops his head to her shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmurs into her vest and hair, his breath warm and wet as his chest stutters and heaves.

“It’s okay,” she says again, repeating the words she’s told herself the last three years, “you’re okay”.

“Loving Nancy is easy, but I…” he sniffs and breathes out, Robin feels a gathering wetness on her shoulder but it only makes her hug him harder.

“But you don’t,” she says softly, finishing his sentence for him.

Steve nods and lets out another shaky breath, finally lifting his face from her shoulder.

He’s a mess, face red and blotchy, tear tracks and snot shine in the streetlights from outside the video store window. Steve’s eyes are red and puffy and his mouth has stretched into an uncharacteristic frown that makes Robin’s chest ache.

Now Robin’s mother may have been an expert on making people feel better no matter the occasion, but Robin was an expert on putting her foot in her mouth and making Steve laugh.

And the latter felt much more appropriate at this moment.

“I mean, you’ve come to the right person at any rate,” she says sagely, reaching up to wipe a loose tear from his nose, he snorts and bats her hand away.

“I’m serious, if anyone is an expert in gay pining, it’s me, I’ve seen it all, if you want pointers in watching from afar and daydreaming about your illegal wedding, I’m your lady”.

Steve laughs and steps back to wipe his face roughly with both hands, it does nothing to sooth the puffy skin beneath his eyes but at least the last trace of tears are gone.

“I’m also an expert,” she chews her lip for a moment, considering carefully how to put it into words, “on how all of this feels, and how new and scary it can be,” she says softly, “trust me, I’ve been there”.

Steve nods, his eyes shining all over again as he tugs Robin closer into another bone crushing hug.

Just in time for the bell above the door to chime.

Well shit.

They step away from one another, glad for the distance from the front door to the counter, knowing exactly how that might have looked to the average customer so late into the evening.

“Hey man,” Robin calls out as Steve turns away from the door to hide his face, “just letting you know we close in five so…”

The man nods, he looks familiar, Robin’s fairly certain she’s seen him at school but she can’t remember the name.

His wild curly hair and jean vest decked out in patches and pins scream, ‘Metal-Head’, as does the ever present cloud of tobacco and weed smell that follows him and around the shelves. He makes a beeline for the small horror section at the back and grabs a tape before making his way to the counter.

“No worries Buckley, knew exactly what I wanted, I won’t hold you and Harrington up --hey man,” he says brightly, two dimples bloom as he smiles in Steve's direction who flinches at being addressed.

Steve slowly turns and tries for a smile, “hey Eddie,” he mumbles.

Eddie’s smile drops as his eyes trace over Steve’s face, “woah, what happened sweet-uh,” he looks at Robin once before moving back to Steve, “dude, uh, sweet dude?”

Oh no fucking way.

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks slowly getting pinker the longer Eddie and Robin stare at him, “nothing, I promise, um are you still okay to take Dustin to Indy tomorrow to the hobby shop?”

Eddie nods and smiles, though there’s still a hint of worry in his eyes as he slides the tape over the counter, “wouldn’t miss it, gotta get that kid ready for Hellfire initiation after all,” he says with a wink.

“I figured if you didn’t have anything after we could watch this at mine,” Eddie continues nervously this time, gesturing to the tape Steve scans through.

For the third time since she’s known Steve, Robin feels as though she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t, only this time it doesn’t fill her with anxiety or uncertainty, and she’s never felt more invisible.

“I’d like that,” Steve says softly as Eddie beams at him, wrapping his knuckles against the counter as he hands Steve three one dollar bills.

“Sounds like a plan my liege,” Eddie hums as he bows with a flourish, coaxing a laugh out of Steve who is smiling like a loon beside Robin, “you bring the popcorn, I’ll take care of everything else,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks backwards towards the entrance before tipping an imaginary hat in farewell as he disappears out the door.

“That is not pining!” Robin shrieks as she whirls around on Steve the moment they see Eddie get into his van, “that was full blown flirting, how long has this been going on??”

“I’m sorry--”

“Nuh uh, you’ve been getting kissy with him, and you didn’t tell me? You got to have your first kiss before me??”

“We haven’t kissed Robin, christ we haven’t done anything--”

“Life is so fucking unfair, you had to be a ‘ladies’ and a ‘man’s’ man, huh?” She scoffs as she walks to the front of the store and switches off the sign and bolts the door for good measure.

Robin turns around only to find Steve staring at her, a nervous expression warps his normally handsome face.

Dammit.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, “I am still so proud of you for telling me, but you have to admit this is unjust,” she mutters in what she hopes is a reassuring voice.

“You think he likes me then?” Steve wonders aloud as he looks from Robin to the door that Eddie left through with a small smile.

Robin drops her face into her hands, this is the man she’s chosen for her platonic soul-mate?

“You are literally going on a date tomorrow,” she grumbles irritatedly, “I watched him ask you out, not even ten seconds ago Steve”.

The smile he sends her way is blinding, and once again Robin is reminded just how much she loves this doofus, how she never would have imagined herself here as a freshman with a trumpet.

“You are calling me after,” she demands as Steve pops the till to begin cashing out while Robin hops up to sit on the counter and fill out the paperwork, “if I can’t teach you about pining then you damn well owe me a class about dating”.

Steve laughs brightly as he lays down the bills and change, giving Robin a soft grin which she returns, finally feeling as though she knows Steve Harrington much better than most.

#platonic stobin #i went with one sided enemies to friends to platonic soulmates #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #platonic soulmates #prompt list ask game #thank you very much for this one #as you can see I got very carried away #presteddie #eddie munson #afewproblems answers #afewproblems writes #implied child abuse #some angst for our boy #angst with a happy ending

283 notes · View notes